Sorrow Waited, Sorrow Won
by ChameleonCircuit
Summary: When Barba pressed a gentle kiss to his chest, right above his heart, he could only grip him tighter, allowing every fleeting word of love and comfort that flew through his brain to leave his lips in disjointed whispers as he tried to absorb whatever sadness his lover was feeling.
1. Chapter 1

In the faint moonlight filtering in through the small window at the end of the hallway, Sonny could see a figure propped on the floor against his front door, curled in on itself. He paused, staring at the seemingly unmoving mound, one hand brushing his holster despite how unthreatening the situation looked.

After a moment, he padded down the hallway cautiously. It wasn't until the light caught on the man's cufflinks that Sonny realised he knew the person. But knowing who it was only shocked him more, and he felt a pang in his chest.

"Barba?" He asked quietly, jumping slightly as Barba's head whipped up.

"Oh good, you're home," Barba responded, his voice raspy and unnaturally quiet.

"You okay?"

It was a stupid question. He knew it was. If Barba was okay, he wouldn't be sat in the hallway waiting for Sonny to come home. Still, he was giving him an out, if he wanted it. He was letting the other man know they could pretend, if that's what he wanted.

Barba didn't respond, though. Instead, he pulled himself off the floor and waited.

Sonny moved, slowly, as though he were afraid Barba would run if startled.

He dumped his keys on the counter top and reached for the bottle of scotch he kept just for his visits, pulling two glasses down from their shelf before heading wordlessly into the living room, Barba shuffling silently behind him.

He'd never thought of the ADA as small, despite his height. His personality always more than made up for his short stature, and Sonny had always figuratively looked up to him so much that it often felt quite literal, too. Yet here, in the dim light of his apartment, Barba looked very small, and the sight of it made him feel uneasy.

Something was wrong, and he was afraid to find out what.

"I thought you'd be home hours ago," Barba said quietly, his voice barely filling the silence.

Sonny's stomach twisted anxiously, but he threw Barba a playful smile, unsure how to handle the mood he'd brought with him.

"What, you weren't waiting out there for the entire four hours of overtime I did were ya?" He teased.

When Barba responded only by taking a large sip of his drink and avoiding his eyes, he felt his stomach drop, and his smile with it.

"Shit, Barba, what's wrong?"

Barba looked like he wanted to speak, but after several almost-starts, he simply sat back against the lounge, letting the worn cushions swallow him a little as he rubbed his eyes tiredly.

Sonny softly, carefully, rose from his armchair to sit next to Barba, hesitating before letting his hand rest behind his head, playing with the short hairs at the nape of his neck as he rubbed gently. It was all he could think to do.

They sat like that for a small while in silence, Sonny's mind filling with worry for the man he'd come to love in such a short amount of time. It hadn't been short - not really. It had been three years in the making, going unacknowledged until two months ago, when he finally allowed himself to really feel it, to be consumed by it, and to let himself act on it.

But it had been slow going. Barba had initiated it, though in a way that he could deny later, if things didn't go according to plan. Because that was how Barba did everything. He always had a way out, a way to make sure he came out on top instead of being left to flounder, to showcase his embarrassment, even to an audience of one. Sonny wondered if he even let himself acknowledge such feelings when he was alone, with no audience to bear witness to his humanity.

And he knew there was humanity there. He knew, because he'd seen it. He saw it in the court room when Barba dredged up emotion to win over a jury. He saw it in the way his voice softened when a victim was upset. He saw it in the way his face fell when he let someone down, the way he fought unwinable fights, the way he searched silently for Liv's approval. He saw it in the way his office was always stocked with Sonny's favourite snacks, in the way that, on their first date, once he knew Sonny definitely felt the same, he was quick to abandon all pretence to make Sonny feel at ease. But most of all, he saw it in the way that Barba would come over unannounced after a tough case, one of Sonny's favourite meals on hand, and a handful of witty quips and snarky remarks laced with fondness to pull Sonny out of the darkest corners of his mind.

Two months, and he'd never once seen Barba appear vulnerable, even when he knew, just because he'd spent so much time studying the man, that he was on the verge of breaking. Because even when Sonny KNEW, Barba never showed it in anything more than a brief clench of a fist or a grinding of the teeth. He covered hurt with clever insults and sadness with self-deprecating humour. Everything he did was precise, a calculated way of presenting himself to the world as human enough to win people over, but cruel enough that people were too scared to come closer.

But Sonny was allowed to get closer. Sonny was allowed to see more. Sonny was allowed to see Barba's kindness, his love, his passion. Sonny was allowed to see his armour for what it was - just armour.

And yet, in time they'd become friends, and the past two months of being more, Sonny had never seen Barba look like this.

He'd seen him raw and angry and shaking. He'd seen him hurt, and sad, and despondent. He'd seen him gentle, and loving, and sincere. But he'd never seen him look _small_.

So when Barba finally shifted across the lounge, practically crawling into Sonny's lap, face pressing into the fabric of his shirt, he didn't know what to do. He just held on. Rubbing soothing circles into his boyfriends back. And as Barba held on tighter, Sonny held right back, matching the strength of his hold, trying to make right whatever was wrong, though his brain was still in shock, trying to catch up, his stomach clenching with his need to do more.

"What happened?" He whispered at last, pressing a kiss just below Barba's ear.

"I over reacted." Barba's voice sounded raw, and full of emotion, and it made Sonny's heart hurt to hear it.

"To what?"

"Just hold me," he whispered, his voice cracking, and it took everything in Sonny's power to hold in the dry sob that was threatening to burst free.

"You wanna stay the night?"

Anxiety caused his muscles to tense - they were yet to stay the night, to share a bed, to do anything quite so open and serious and tender. But when he felt Rafael nod, and shift so he could stand, he audibly sighed with relief.

Taking his boyfriends hand in the same way he might take a frightened child's, Sonny lead him to the bedroom. He helped Barba undress, carefully hanging his clothes on a spare hanger so they wouldn't crease. He tried not to feel self-conscious as Barba watched him undress, too, as though every move Sonny made was important.

And when they crawled into bed, Barba curled into his chest, causing Sonny to instinctively wrap every limb around the smaller man, cocooning him. He would have wondered if it was too much, if it weren't for the fact that Barba was nestling impossibly closer, closing every gap he could.

And when Barba pressed a gentle kiss to his chest, right above his heart, he could only grip him tighter, allowing every fleeting word of love and comfort that flew through his brain to leave his lips in disjointed whispers as he tried to absorb whatever sadness his lover was feeling.

They fell asleep like that, Barba pressed into Sonny's chest, and Sonny holding onto him, protecting him from whatever invisible demons had visited him that night.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** POV shift in this chapter, just so you know.

* * *

Rafael nearly pushed back against the limbs crowding his space until he realised who they belonged to and where he was. The pounding in his heart didn't slow, though, as he tried to relax back into the warmth of Carisi's chest.

The melancholy that had set in the day before slowly settled in as his brain woke up, and following close behind was the embarrassment. Not just for the way he'd behaved, but the way he'd been unable, in that moment, to hide his vulnerability.

The plan had been to show up at Carisi's door just half an hour after he got home - long enough to not look too eager, but quick enough that he could let Sonny know he needed this. The plan had been to embrace his boyfriend, to feel his warmth, to breathe him in, and then to let go, letting the brief but wholesome moment (because Carisi's hugs were always wholesome, his long arms incapable of anything else) fill him up with enough strength to get through their meal, to laugh at the jokes Carisi was sure to make to lift his mood, because he could always read him well enough to know what he needed. The plan had been to allow himself to take a small amount of what he came for, and be satisfied that it was more than he would have otherwise had. The plan was to be content with being in the presence of someone who loved him instead of having to go home, to his cold, empty apartment with a bottle of scotch and an ever-growing darkness.

Instead, he'd arrived to Carisi's empty apartment, and he hadn't had the strength to leave. He'd been holding on to the idea of Carisi's soothing presence to get him through the day, and he felt hollow having it taken away from him. And the weight of that sudden, indescribably loss had him gasping for air, unable to calm the overriding, irrational panic that took hold of him as he slid down the door frame to the floor, trying desperately to get a hold of himself, lest someone see him in such a state.

And when his breathing slowed, he couldn't find the strength to get back up. He felt he could cry, but he wouldn't allow it. He knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that when Carisi did show, he had to be able to pretend he'd only just arrived. He had to keep it together enough to pull that off.

Only, the longer he waited, the more the darkness crept in, crawling through his veins and dulling his brain, so that when Carisi finally showed, he'd had nothing left to hide behind.

He sighed softly, angling his head away from Carisi's skin so he could breathe in the fresh air of the morning. He wanted to run, but he knew that moving would wake Carisi up, and then he'd have to face his concern, his sad eyes, his gentle touch, his _victim voice_. So instead, he remained still, forming pathetic excuses in his brain for the reason he'd behaved the way he had the night before.

Deep down, he knew Carisi wouldn't judge, wouldn't question if asked not to, and wouldn't think of him any differently. Deep down, he knew that Carisi would love him all the same. But part of his fear stemmed from that love. Carisi loved openly and fully, without shame and without fear. He didn't hold back, and even if he tried, he was always an open book of emotion, easy to read, though sometimes disconcerting in its honesty.

Sometimes, it was too much, and Rafael had to look away, had to collect himself, because that love threatened to undo him more often than he cared to admit. That love consumed him, and scared him, and threw him off balance. It was so far removed from the type of people he'd been involved with before. There was always an air of indifference, jokes to cover up raw feelings, petty arguments and exasperation. There was always an easy out, when the time came, and even if they had both admitted to love, there was always room to take it back. There was always room to escape. But not with Carisi, and that terrified him in a way he couldn't explain.

When Carisi's alarm finally went off, Rafael grumbled sleepily, scrunching his eyes closed as he burrowed his face into Carisi's shoulder, hoping he wouldn't notice he'd been awake for hours.

"I've got to get up, and so do you," he whispered against Rafael's hair, pressing a kiss where his words had been.

Rafael felt instantly cold, and repressed a shiver. He didn't understand how so much love could be put into such a basic action, but he was keenly aware of it, and it only deepened his shame. He was wholly undeserving, and he knew it.

He allowed Carisi to gently, delicately untangle their limbs and set him aside to get up and go about his day while Rafael pretended to go back to sleep.

As soon as he heard the water running in the shower, he pulled the basics of his clothes on, bundling the rest in his arms, and made a run for it. If anyone asked him later if he'd ran, he'd deny it, but he found himself literally fleeing Carisi's apartment, half-dressed and filled with an indescribable fear that was mixing with the sadness he couldn't shake, both making friends behind his back.

* * *

Carisi sent him two texts that day, one asking why he'd left in such a rush, another asking simply if he was okay. He ignored both, his stomach twisting with guilt each time he thought about them.

He kept himself busy, trying to ignore the lethargy setting into his muscles as the desire to crawl into a hole and never come out sat dangerously at the edge of his mind, peering in every now and again. Every time he thought about Carisi's arms around him, he felt guilty and ashamed, and yet he wanted it back more than anything.

He picked his phone up a few times with the intention or calling or texting, only to slide it back into his pocket as panic wound its way up his throat, tears threatening to burn his eyes.

Rafael was used to this. He was used to the sadness that came from nowhere and clung to him for days. He was used to the cold loneliness that felt endless. He was used to the black hole of despair that opened up inside him and sucked everything else in before he even had a chance to properly see it. He was used to the tightness in his chest and the way breathing sometimes hurt, the way his lungs didn't feel full enough and his thoughts chased one another for hours. That, he'd been dealing with for as long as he could remember.

What he wasn't used to was having someone he knew he could go to, whose arms provided warmth, and whose voice provided calm. He wasn't used to having someone so open and loving and caring, and he wasn't used to wanting that, to needing that. And that made it worse, not better, knowing there was someone he could share the load with, who would take on his sadness as if it were his own, who would swallow it whole and replace the bitterness with light, and laughter, and comfort, even at the expense of his own. Knowing he could have that, and yet feeling undeserving. Feeling undeserving, and therefore incapable of asking for it.

He knew it was partially pride - it terrified him to let someone in that far, to let them see the ugly truth of who he was. The broken little boy from the Bronx, with demons too large to stay on top of. It terrified him to think he could be seen as less than what he put forward.

But Carisi had seen - a piece of it anyway. And he hadn't run, he hadn't left, he hadn't told Rafael to 'pull himself together' or 'be a man' or 'stop being a coward'. He hadn't laughed at him, or avoided him, or been anything more than giving, and loving, and understanding. And that scared him, too.

It scared him because he'd never had that. Not from past partners, not from his friends, and certainly not from his family. The few people who saw his vulnerabilities used them against him, so he learnt to hide them early on. The few people who had seen his sadness dismissed it, and so he learnt to keep it behind closed doors. The few people who had witnessed him in moments of weakness, when he was too exhausted to hold the barriers up, had extracted themselves from the situation, pitying him, but ultimately not wanting to deal with him.

Yet here was Carisi, with his heart wide open, happy to encase Rafael inside him, to do anything to chase away his demons, despite how suddenly he'd broken, despite how unprepared he must have been for what greeted him when he got home.

And it was that that caused the lump to form in his throat, tears once again burning behind his eyes as he stared at the paperwork in front of him, trying and failing to shift his thoughts to his job and away from the swirling abyss in his mind.

A light rap at his door startled him, and before he had a chance to respond, it was already opening.

Decades of experience helped him to school his expression as he stood, shuffling his papers, head bowed, to buy himself more time. As he did so, he realised it was nearly 7pm. He'd been lost in his mind for nearly two hours and he hadn't even realised.

"Barba?"

Carisi. Sweet, loving, Carisi. Of course it was him. Who else, at this hour?

"What is it, Carisi? I'm about to head home."

Cold. That was cold. Unnecessarily cold. And yet he couldn't even bring himself to look up.

"I thought we could do dinner?" He sounded unsure, his voice wavering, and Rafael felt his stomach twist with guilt.

"It's been a long day." It wasn't an answer, and Rafael knew it, so he forced himself to look his boyfriend in the eye, giving him a pointed look, a look that simply said 'go'.

"Yeah, well, I thought dinner might take the edge off," he tried, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously.

Rafael wanted to draw him in, to apologise, to press kisses to his cheeks, his eyelids, his nose, his lips. He wanted to breathe him in and draw strength from him, and let him know he was grateful, so grateful, that he was in his life. But he couldn't. He couldn't, so instead, he rolled his eyes, looking put-upon, unable to stop himself from doing as he'd always done - build a wall.

"You thought, did you? That must have been painful for you." It was petty, it was cruel, and it was so far beneath him. He knew it, and he knew Carisi knew it, and yet the younger man's face fell all the same, his brow knitting together.

Carisi's entire face screamed hurt. It had seeped into every crevice, every inch of him an open book. He looked confused, too, like he'd been expecting something different. Rafael knew it should have been different, but he couldn't understand how Carisi could expect anything more. This was who he was. It was who he had always been. Undeserving of a kind man's love.

"Wow, did I do something wrong?" Carisi asked, voice strained, and Rafael had to force himself to look away when he thought he saw the other man's eyes grow wet.

"Of course not. This is who I am."

It was pointed, and the words hung heavy between them. It was an explanation, an excuse, and an apology all in one. It wasn't good enough, but it was all he had.

Rafael gathered his things and made a move for the door, but Carisi blocked his path.

"No it isn't," he said softly, and Rafael chanced a glance up, into his eyes, and was shocked to see them shining, not with hurt or anger, but with a sadness so deep it made his breath catch in his throat.

He took a step back, unable to stop the cagey movement, as Carisi's hand reached out for him.

"Don't," he warned, but his voice shook, even on a single word. How was it that this man had the ability to undo him so easily?

"Tell me what I've done wrong," he pleaded, his quiet voice raspy with emotion. "Tell me, so I never do it again."

Rafael swallowed past the guilt that was working its way up his throat. He wishes Carisi would take his cold dismissal and go, instead of looking so sad and wounded, trying to make it right. Because how could Rafael explain that the only thing he'd done wrong was love him? How could he explain that he was just so damaged, so afraid, that he couldn't stand to be in the same room as someone so beautiful? How could he explain that the light that his partner exuded blinded him? Those weren't faults or flaws to be fixed in Carisi - they were faults and flaws to be fixed within himself, and he couldn't speak to them without exposing himself.

He could feel himself teetering on the edge, and he couldn't breathe. He tried, he really tried, but his breathing was too shallow, too short, not enough.

"You're not at fault," he gasped out, hand grasping at the wall for purchase, though his face was still, magically, the perfect picture of calm.

"I must be, for you to feel the need to escape, and to hide from me." Carisi's voice was filled with as much guilt as Rafael felt, and it made him feel sick to hear it.

It was too much. It was all too much. The buzzing in his ears, the sadness on Carisi's face, the pleading in his eyes, the desperation to do right. The light. The love. All he could do was shield his eyes, resting his forehead against his arm, which was, in turn, against the wall. He felt his briefcase drop from his hand, the clutter sounding distant and echoey.

He tried to push himself upright, to stand straight and tall, to tell Carisi, in no uncertain terms to leave.

Instead, it came as a barely audible whimper, and he had to fight not to gasp for air. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he'd lost the battle, that he was coming undone in front of Carisi, but he still felt a desperate need to save face.

Carisi reached out for Rafael, and he flinched away again, clenching and unclenching his fists by his side, trying to find the words to say to make Carisi leave. But he could already picture him turning his back and walking out the door, and the image pre-emptively broke his heart. Instead of speaking like he'd intended, he let out a strangled sort of sob, and when Carisi came for him this time, with his long arms ready to embrace him, he gave into it, falling hard against the taller man's chest, gripping the front of his shirt as though his life depended on it.

Rafael was embarrassed. He was disappointed. He was angry. He was so many things, but more than anything, he was exhausted.

He felt Carisi shift, and involuntarily clung to him harder, too scared to look up and see the disgust that must be visible on the detective's face.

"I'm just closing the door," he whispered, and Rafael heard the click of his truth before he was dragged down to the lounge, their bodies folding awkwardly together.

They remained that way for some time, long after the light had left his office, with Carisi rubbing gentle, soothing circles on his back, as though he were a child.

"I'm sorry," Rafael managed, trying to extricate himself from Carisi's grip.

For a moment, he thought he wasn't going to let go, but gradually, carefully, Carisi's grip loosened, and he could sit upright once more.

"What for?" He asked quietly, and Rafael couldn't resist looking - he had to know if the confusion in his voice matched is face. It did.

He laughed dryly, running a shaky hand through his hair.

"For that. For last night. For this morning," he began, then looked away, his hands clenching and unclenching against his knees. Carisi's hands came to rest on top of his, but he yanked his own away.

"This is me. This is who I am. This dark, twisted, ugly thing inside of me has always been there. And everyone runs from it, in some way, even when they say they won't," he was bordering on hysterical as he took a deep breath, being extra careful to lower his voice. "So you can leave now. It's okay. You don't have to pretend."

There was silence. Deafening, long, excruciating silence. But Carisi didn't move. He didn't even shift.

"Why would I leave you?" Carisi asked after what felt like an eternity had passed.

"Because look at me. I'm pathetic."

The hysteria had subsided, and in its wake, Rafael was left with nothing. He felt hollow and exhausted. He felt completely empty. If it wasn't so terrifyingly familiar, it would be a welcome change from the anxiety that had been crawling around inside him all day.

He felt Carisi move. He was prepared for the click of the door. He wasn't prepared for a soft hand to cup his chin, to force his face upwards. He wasn't prepared to see his boyfriend's eyes shining with unshed tears, his face sad, but so full of love. He wasn't prepared for a kiss to land on his cheek, then another on the corner of his mouth, then another in his hair, before their foreheads were pressed together.

"I know it's early days. I know last night was a first. I know this is a first, too. And as much as I hope it's the last, I understand it probably isn't. But that's what I'm here for. All the firsts, the good and the bad, the beautiful and the ugly. And, Barba, this isn't ugly. It's sad, and it hurts me to see you like this, but it doesn't make you less, okay? It makes you more," Carisi's voice was shaking, but he was smiling now, gripping the sides of Rafael's head with his too-big hands. "I love you, Rafael Barba. I'm not gonna run away just 'cause things get a little tough."

Rafael let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, and his hands came to rest on Carisi's chest, smoothing the already crease-free material, before he pressed their lips together.

A sense of calm washed over him as the detective held him close, pressing kisses into his hair.

He still felt wholly undeserving of such open displays of affection, but he would take what he could get. He would take everything Carisi would offer him. He would take that love, and ball it up, and store it in his chest, in his heart, and hold it safe. His own, personal light to guide him through the darkness. He would take it, and try not to push it away, because Carisi deserved better, and he would find it in himself to be better for him.

* * *

 **A/N:** I was a little worried I'd taken this too far. I didn't want Barba to come completely undone, but I needed him to be holding on by a thread. At that kind of place where you know you can present yourself to the world as whole, but if one person asks, it's like the big bad wolf blowing down the house made of sticks. There's no hiding, once someone asks if you're okay.

So I hope I portrayed that well enough? I kept second guessing myself. The first draft involved more of a breakdown - I prefer where this edit ended up, at least.

Feel free to give me ideas on where you want this to go. I see no end in sight. I'm thinking this collection of chapters might be a blip in time in an overall series, but I'm not entirely sure. But if you think of anything you want to see happen, I'm open to suggestions!

If you have tumblr, we can discuss over at sofuckingchuffed


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Change of POV again. This is also the last chapter, but there may be more in this series coming.

* * *

Sonny's hand was numb. They'd been sitting for a long time, in the dark and quiet of Barba's office. He knew they should move, but he didn't have the heart to disturb the peace. He could tell from the rhythm of his breathing that he wasn't asleep, but he probably wished he was, and that was more or less the same thing.

His heart hurt when he thought about how sure Barba had been that he would leave. He knew better than to take it as a personal insult, and he wanted to hurt all the people who made the ADA feel like he was any less for being human.

When he thought of the look on Barba's face as he struggled to hold himself together, his stomach twisted. He could see so clearly behind his eyelids the way he struggled to hold himself up as the weight of whatever this was pressed down on him, threatening to crush him.

He wished that his desire to take his boyfriends pain away was enough. He wished he could crawl inside his heart and pick up all the pieces. He wished he could fill the gaping hole of darkness with his own light. Because he knew, instinctively, that where he was all light, the darkness only in the corners, crowding him during tough moments, Barba was a black hole, and he was constantly creeping around the edges, performing a well-practiced balancing act.

"Let's go home," he whispered against Barba's ear.

Barba didn't move for a while, and Sonny was patient. Eventually, he lifted himself from the lounge, scooping his briefcase up off the floor, forcing his spine straight. The smile on his face didn't fool Sonny, but he smiled back anyway.

"I'll see you tomorrow?"

Sonny blinked, his mouth going slack with confusion. His brain quickly caught up, but not quick enough for Barba to not see it as rejection. He watched the ADA's face fall, and he looked so tired and so vulnerable, and Sonny felt himself hurrying forward, ready to physically hold him together.

"Right," Barba muttered, moving for the door, but Sonny reached out, entwining their fingers as he dropped his head to meet his boyfriend's gaze.

"You're an idiot," he said gently, smiling as he squeezed Barba's hand. "I meant, come home with me."

It was Barba's turn to blink in confusion, before he nodded, a small smile forming on his lips as he pulled Sonny towards the door.

In the back of the cab, Sonny kept a hold of Barba's hand, his thumb rubbing a soothing pattern. When they got home, he lead Barba to the bedroom wordlessly.

Because what could he say? He wanted to have the magic words to ease his partner's pain, but he knew no such words existed. Anything he could say would come out wrong. His actions were better than his words, and his actions felt like not nearly enough.

It took all his strength to not ask Barba to talk. It took everything in him to not question or probe or prod. It took strength not to start on a tirade of insults and threats at the faceless people who had worn Barba down to a point where he felt like he had to hide from everyone. Because how could he possibly think Sonny would just walk away when the person he loved was drowning? How could he think he would turn the other way and want nothing to do with him after seeing a glimpse of his darkness. How could he think he could find him ugly simply because he wasn't perfectly put together?

His heart ached with the weight of it all, but he said nothing. He just undressed them both, put them both into bed, planted kisses across his lover's forehead, before folding around him protectively, just as he had the night before.

* * *

The next morning, Barba didn't flee, and Sonny took that as a good sign. In fact, Barba was up first, and when Sonny came out of the shower, breakfast awaited him. Bacon and eggs and fresh coffee, presented as an apology and a thank you, neither of which were necessary, though Sonny took them anyway, because he knew that's what Barba needed.

They ate in silence. Sonny wanted to say so many things, but he worried anything he had to say would be unwanted. He knew enough of trauma and mental illness to know that the whole thing was a balancing game, and while he was surprised to find it in the ever-composed ADA, he knew, sadly, that's often where it hid. He didn't know exactly what this was, but he knew it fell loosely into that category, somehow, and so he knew not to push.

"Thank you, Sonny."

Sonny froze mid chew, running the sentence through his mind multiple times, before looking up to meet Barba's tentative smile. He called him Sonny. For the first time in the entire three-and-a-bit years they'd known each other, Rafael Barba called him Sonny.

He felt it warranted a 'Rafael', in return, though the name felt more formal than 'Barba', somehow. He wanted to call him 'Raf'. To test the name he'd used countless times in his head. The name he'd almost said out loud too many times to count, always catching himself at the last moment.

He knew he'd been too silent and too still for too long when worry crept into his partner's face. He shook his head, his mind catching up to the fact that his boyfriend called him _Sonny_. It didn't sound like much, but to him, it meant the world. It meant they'd crossed a line that he'd been too scared to cross himself. It felt like such an intimate thing, because despite his insistence that everyone call him that, no one _ever_ did. The smile blooming on his lips was damn-near face splitting, and he knew it, and he didn't care to reign it in.

He watched as Barba's worry turned to relief, then a smile. A small one, nowhere near as large as his own. But then, Sonny figured he could smile enough for both of them, if he had to.

"You called me Sonny," was all he could manage, and he ducked his head, feeling slightly embarrassed and all-too giddy.

Barba laughed, and it was like music to his ears. He'd heard Barba laugh before, many times, but the low, barely there sound that reached his ears that morning was one he planned to lock away forever. It was unexpected, unprepared, and Sonny had forced it out of him. Through the darkness, Sonny dragged some unexpected light, and that memory he would hold onto forever so he could learn to perfect the action, and repeat it endlessly.

"I did," Barba acknowledged, tilting his head a little to meet Sonny's eyes.

And Sonny beamed at him before taking his partners face between his hands and kissing him. Dry, but warm, and tender, and full of every bit of love he could find within him. And he knew the look on Barba's face when he pulled away would stay with him forever, too.

"I love you, Raf," he tested shyly.

Barba's face twisted slightly, followed by an eye-roll, though Sonny could see the smile behind it, and it warmed his heart.

"You jumped on that pretty quick. I'm not sure I like it."

But he was barely restraining a grin now, and Sonny was back to grinning in full, leaning into Rafael's space. And didn't it feel good to be able to freely think of him as something more intimate than 'Barba'.

"I think you do," he said softly.

"Yeah, I do."

Rafael's eyes were serious now, the ghost of a smile barely visible as he took Sonny's hand. He felt a flutter of nerves form in his stomach, but he made sure to keep smiling.

Rafael just stared at him, his eyes the most open and honest they'd ever been. So Sonny stared right back, drinking in every detail. He could see every apology, every thank you, every bit of guilt and worry and self-hatred and sadness, and though it made his heart constrict, he felt privileged to be able to see all of it.

He didn't realise he was crying until Rafael brought his hands up, wiping the tears from Sonny's face. He ducked his head, embarrassed, but Rafael caught his lips in his own before pressing a kiss to either of his eyelids.

"This is who I am," he whispered, his voice shaking slightly, and Sonny wanted nothing more than to tear all of that worry and fear out of him.

"I love who you are," he whispered back. "Even if it makes me cry like a fool over breakfast."

Rafael laughed softly at that, but it was a wet sound, full of too much emotion for so early in the morning. Sonny laughed too, sniffing slightly. He never would have thought of crying as romantic, but he thought this might have been the biggest declaration of love he'd ever been a part of, and despite his wishing for Rafael to be nothing but happy, he wouldn't change it for anything in the world.

It was their moment, and theirs alone, and that made it perfect.


End file.
